TheSoviet

((Ooh! Ooh! I wanna be evil!))

"This will not do."

"Indeed it will not."

Somewhere in the labyrinth halls of a massive Council-owned Island Fortress, many figures were gathered.

Figures of evil.

Flanked by Commander Firenze and Commander Reikoff of the Malta, Colonel Duray of the Skyraiders, Vandal of the Council, Frostfire of the Outcasts, Marrow Snap and Marrow Drinker of the Skulls, Duke Mogrodar and 3K Kelvion of the Hellions, Nemesis stands at the head of the table now being used as a temporary villain group war room.

"I don't like your tone!" Whirs a Clockwork to a MasterMind's robot before quickly being silenced by Babbage.

"What course of action do you plan to take?" Inquires Nemesis to Floyd of the Lost.

"We don't know. None of our Rikti tech is working."

A clockwork experimentally tries to flick up some lightning, but to no avail.

"My powers are out!" Roars a Torch of the Outcasts, "I can't even warm my damn coffee!" Which gets some laughter from a Crey Powersuit Guard.

"Silence!"

All of the villains look up to see The Center standing above them on a series of steps.

"We need a true plan."

---

Heroes throughout Paragon suddenly begin to see less villains. Boats are highjacked, cars are stolen, and entire gangs flee the city.

As a group of Trolls mixed with Family rush by him without even looking back, special agent Langley was left speechless.

((If this is too much, I'll relenquish some control. But I'd think the villain groups would be doing something too.))

((Darn. I made one too, but I'll just delete it later.))

Burning, your characters are inventive in the same vein that I'm not.

Whilst a Malta will always shoot you, Brawlers keep you guessing.

This thread is similar to those made by Mr. Shadow and myself except instead of only asking to critique our own styles, I think that as a community we should help each other improve and draw new recruits....Ahem, into the fold. So go ahead and quote some of your work for your comrade's scrutinous eyes, and help CoV Roleplaying flourish.

((Many thanks to Leogunner for the idea. I just like to see my name :P.))

That's a really good idea...

[ QUOTE ]
Personally, I'm still expecting to see the day that the in-game Malta finally get an AV and when I get the mission I'll suddenly see a named super-taccom: "Samuel Reikoff"

[/ QUOTE ]

I can only pray.

Thankee. =D

Spelling has been covered, but I will compliment you on the fact that your guys handle things differently. As in, Ryan doesn't just duke it out with people. He tries to get the jump on 'em. Zack is tactical. Psychologist is nuts. I really like your personalities.

Ditto as Ryan's.

Love for the Malta? Hate for the Malta?

Speak to meh.

((Oh...I'm in combat...))

As the battle had begun, the Maltans had taken cover in a building to the side, not unlike the Family. There, they fortified. This was a marathon, not a sprint, and if they were ready for the enemy, they'd be the favorite runner.

"You see what you do?" Reikoff tells Curtis as he switches to thermal vision and begins searching for the now-hostile droid.

"Airborne hostile." Marcus grunts, pointing to Zealstrom.

Curtis happily draws his magnums, loads in a clip of mini-missiles, and begins to fire without plan or prompt.

The cowboy's reasoning: "I'm bored as hell."

((Wait...Where am I?))

The Maltans approach the elevator.

"We're ready." Reikoff tells the guard.

"Anyone have a suggestion?"

"The Tarantulas. Some are psychic, and the brains are already removed...Makes things easier..."

"Good."

"Sign us up."

Reikoff had his men move with haste to the main desk.

"Describe to me the contending Arachnos forces."

"Stop." Reikoff says to the guard.

"Are there Fortunatas or Mu with them?"

((Double post.))

((I is return-ed.))

"TAKE COVER!" Yelled Reikoff as the missiles swarmed towards himself and his two elite operatives, diving backwards nearly thirty feet in the low gravity....

...Bumping right into some Longbow.

"[censored]!" and a flashbang later, it was only stunned Longbow and several force-fielded mercenaries on the plain of battle.

-----

"Goddamnit." Marcus muttered to himself from the Maltan's crater cover some 300 meters away.

Reikoff snorts in approval at his foes' cunning, and moves his men from the spa...

Reikoff kept facing as he was.

"And what, pray tell, do you plan to do to stop me?" He inquired as all of the Maltans trained their guns to the figure next to him.

"Energy signature in the spa room."

"Capture gear up!"

The Maltans quietly enter the room full of bathing supers. A succubus looks at them seductively from a boiling vat of...somthing.

"Magic levels at thirty-two-delta." Read Marcus from his scanner.

"Hey, do you big bad soldier boys want to come ARGHHH!" The succubi screeched as she was zapped of energy and teleported away.

The Maltans snorted in disgust and continued on.

Reikoff easily blasted the M30 with his sniper rifle, the incredibly lucky Malta being blown down just enough by the recoil to have the bullet miss his head.

As the flames died down and their opponent smacked in his next clip, the Malta seized the chance.

Bursting from his cover, Curtis loaded explosive shot and took a careful bead with his magnums.

The heavy pistols roared to life as Marcus and Reikoff provided additional machine gun fire.

The Maltans take cover behind scattered rocks.

"The hell information is he talkin' about?"

"I don't know, but he's a dead man!" Roared Reikoff, tossing a grenade high into the low-gravity atmosphere...

"Argh--The hell is going ON?" Yelled Reikoff to her, opening his mouth to prove his point to the small 'bot. He tore off fuzz that seemed to be fraying off of his armor everywhere.

"Help me! Help me, damnit!" He yelled.

"Argh, emergency recall!" Yelled Curtis.

He clicked his wrist keypad at lightning speed. Suddenly, lightning crackled through the sky, and a whipping vortex appeared in front of the Malta.

"COME ON!" Yelled the Gunslinger, readying himself to jump.....

NO!

Curtis dove for the portal and ate dirt, beating his fists into the ground in frustration. The Malta were stranded.

"Holy...Hell..." Reikoff muttered slowly as he reached to his face.

Pulling down his TacOps faceguard, he opened his mouth...And there shone the massive incisors. With a shriek of suprise and a twitch, a bullet went flying skyward as the Maltan commander roared in fear and anger.

"Get me EVERY DRUG WE HAVE! We will COUNTER THIS, DAMNIT! RAGH!!!"

He erupted into a storming wave of curses that echoed through the woods all the way to Essex. He mentioned things that would make a sailor cry. His Techs willingly produced everything they had: Excelsior, Agent 17, Superadyne, Healing stimulants, Antimutagens, everything. Nothing was working....

Reikoff roared and fired his weapon into the air.....He didn't feel himself.

Reikoff immediately stopped firing and dove into the basket, crouching over it, nervously eyeing about the area.

The other Maltans stared.

Curtis looked on with a "What-The-Hell" expression. Marcus wondered why he'd ever agreed to help these idiots. The Delta Four was shaking with robotic laughter.

Reikoff sprang back on his heels, and grabbed the muffin....

....And suddenly, the tenseness faded. A strange voice laughed "The Wolfie lost her!" As the Malta looked to their leader, who had now kneeled down in front of the basket.

"What the hell...Someone get me some Excelsior. What was that? What the--Someone, get me a bioscan...We're being toyed with, damnit, and I don't like being toyed with."

The Malta nervously laughed at their now furiously cursing leader.

That was the Reikoff they knew.